


Bones

by Luzula



Category: due South
Genre: Community: dsc6dsnippets, Gen, Introspection, References to Canonical Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 09:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luzula/pseuds/Luzula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't know what he'd thought he'd find here. Peace of mind, perhaps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bones

**Author's Note:**

> La la la, distraction via fic-writing. For the prompt "I can see a new horizon underneath the blazing sky."

He didn't know what he'd thought he'd find here. Peace of mind, perhaps. Certainly not more evidence, as he'd already combed the area twice.

Fraser sat on the slope where his father had died--had sat there long enough for Dief to take off on his own, with a last worried glance at him. Dief would be back, though.

There was still blood on the snow, though Fraser couldn't see it from here.

"Aren't you going to appear? Tell me to avenge you?" He couldn't help the bitterness from creeping into his tone. Not likely. His father had kept his distance in life and there was no reason to think he wouldn't do so in death.

Besides, Fraser was no Hamlet. Oh, he'd dig into this, but that was just his own inability to let things go without justice being served. Like a dog with a bone. Except bones at least had meat on them, as Dief would point out.

He followed the lines of the landscape with his gaze. Softened by the snow, the sharp crags receded in folds behind folds into the distance, down into forested hills on one side, and on the other they rose up into the heights, where the stark rock showed like a spine. The sun shone with uncompromising brightness on the snow, and the vastness of it gave him some small measure of comfort. He was only a tiny thing, after all, not important in the grand scheme of things, except as a life that would turn into soil in his own time.

His father had been shaped by this land, and he was gone, but the land remained. He himself was still here, being shaped. 


End file.
